


The Dark Waltz

by charlottesweb



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Шерлок Холмс | Sherlock Holmes (TV 2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottesweb/pseuds/charlottesweb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John attempt to reconnect after Sherlock's disappearance and in doing so realize there is much more to their relationship than just friendship. As they explore their sexuality together Sherlock and John realize they were always meant to be together. What about Mary and the Baby? How will John love all three and still keep his sanity? What about Sherlock? Will he be able to accept John's choice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dark Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for your patience. I toned down the physical activity and focused more on the romance. :-) This story goes before Love Dance sacred Geometry

John had moved in with Sherlock temporarily until he worked out things with Mary. They both sat in their chairs as usual, however, there was something different, things did not have that comfortable feel that there used to be. Sherlock was in one of his black moods staring moodily out the window. He watched Sherlock as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair his brows knitted together.  
“Sherlock, are you okay?” 

  
Sherlock scowled. “It’s nothing. This bandage is bothering me that’s all.”

  
"Sherlock you're recovering from a gunshot wound and I'm concerned. Now, let me take a look.”

  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Fine, John take a look, if that’s what it will take for you to stop yammering on.”

  
He lifted up the back of Sherlock’s shirt; the bandage had a spot of light seepage coming through. “Sherlock, just leave your shirt up. I am going to get a couple of things from my bag.”

  
When he came back he washed out the wound and applied another bandage. Sherlock’s white skin was perfect and his fingers lingered longer than he had intended. He pulled his hand back.

  
When Sherlock finally spoke, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “John,” Sherlock whispered. “I think you need to readjust the bandage, it is bothering me."

  
He frowned, then lifted up Sherlock’s shirt again. The bandage seemed fine to him. “Sherlock, everything looks fine.”

  
“John, do you think I am the most observant person you’ve ever known?”

  
He shivered, Sherlock’s low dulcet voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “Sherlock, yes you are the most observant person I have ever met. Why are you asking me this?”

  
Sherlock slipped off his shirt and stood before him. He didn’t back up when Sherlock stepped into his personal space.  
His heart pounded when Sherlock locked eyes with him; Sherlock’s eyes looked almost black—pupils dilated. There wasn’t a sound in the room except the music that blared from Sherlock’s computer, it was Holiday by Greenday. They listened to the music for a moment and then Sherlock looked back at him with such intensity that he thought he was going to pass out. Sherlock reached forward and put his hands on his hips. He tensed but didn’t move when Sherlock pulled his pelvis closer to him. Sherlock then brought his lips so close to his that he could feel Sherlock’s warm breath on his lips. He felt as tight as a stone statue; however, he made no attempt to pull away when Sherlock’s lips met his. When Sherlock slipped his tongue in his mouth, he felt faint. They kissed each exploring the inside of the other’s mouth. Sherlock then pulled him towards him by the waist of his jeans and unbuckled his pants. He began to moan slightly when Sherlock ran his tongue along the side of his jaw. He began to lose his balance he felt so dizzy. Sherlock supported his lower back until they were on the floor. "Sherlock oh Sherlock please take me,” he gasped.

Sherlock pulled him closer. “John, you pick the worst times to talk. Stop talking.”

  
 He thought he would die of pleasure, when Sherlock found every responsive spot on his body. 

  
Sherlock needed no encouragement, stopping only occasionally to re adjust so that he could be closer to him.  
“God, John I love you so much,” Sherlock breathed. Then he took another breath and took off the rest of his clothes. 

  
He kissed Sherlock on the back of the neck. “Sherlock, are you okay? You are shaking so hard.”

  
“For God’s sake John, shut up.” Sherlock hissed.

  
 Partly in anger from Sherlock’s disappearance and partly in need, his sexual rhythm became uncontrolled. The more he made love to Sherlock the more he wanted to make Sherlock his. Sherlock’s breath came out in gasped rhythms that matched his thrusts.“Sherlock, Sherlock, God how I love you, I am going to make sure  you will never want to leave me again.” His voice sounded harsh but he didn’t care.

“Oh, God, yes,” Sherlock groaned. Sherlock then collapsed on the floor, gasping for air.

  
He threw himself down next to Sherlock and pulled him into his arms. "Sherlock you're pale and sweaty." He brushed the hair from Sherlock’s damp forehead. “Sherlock, my love, did I hurt you? If so, I am so sorry.” He then took Sherlock’s pulse, it was racing. 

"Sherlock I don't like how pale you are. Come on, let’s rest.”

  
Sherlock nodded his breath still coming out in ragged gasps. He began to rub Sherlock’s back. "Let's check that bandage." He frowned at the red scars that stood out on Sherlock’s back.  
“Sherlock, move toward the light.” He ordered. Sherlock complied, while he inspected his back. “Good God, Sherlock these look like whip scars.”

  
Sherlock moved out of the light. “John, those are a souvenir from my time in Eastern Europe.”

  
His eyes darkened in anger. “It was that bastard Mycroft, wasn’t it?”

  
Sherlock met his eyes with a sad smile.

  
“John, you know what I thought when I was being beaten? I was thinking that you were safe and that was all that mattered. Each lash reminded me that I deserved the pain. It broke my heart to see you at the cemetery. My darling, sweet, sexy Doctor the need for you was so great at times that I am surprised you never noticed. I just figured that I could never have you and so it would be easier to stay away. I was wrong.”

  
He began to lick behind Sherlock’s ear. “Sherlock, you are such a hypocrite, you are softer than you would have others believe. We've both suffered from our stupidity. We've wasted too much time.”

  
Sherlock moved closer to him. “I'm not sensitive everywhere Doctor.”

  
“So much for resting.” He felt excited when he looked down at his beloved Sherlock. "Sherlock, let me drink you in." "Fine, but I'm topping this time. Now get on all fours, while I assuage bad memories of our past regrets." 

  
"OH GOD.” His breath came out in frantic gasps, like a la mas coach. He then collapsed under Sherlock. Sherlock’s blue eyes were shiny with lust when he ran his mouth down Sherlock’s stomach. His tongue went everywhere. He loved the sounds of pleasure Sherlock made while he explored. Their bodies became slick from sweat.

They lay there, then Sherlock spoke.“John, are you alright? John?” He struggled to squeeze out from underneath. “John, come on quit screwing around.” Sherlock’s voice had a frantic edge to it. "Fuck, I just fucked John unconscious." He kept his eyes. Sherlock grabbed his wrist to check his pulse, he then opened his eyes.  
“Gottcha,” he laughed.

  
Sherlock got up. “Fuck you John that was a dirty trick”

  
He got up from the floor. “Excuse me, you fucking little hypocrite. Multiply that feeling a thousand times and you still won’t come close to feeling what I suffered over you.”

  
Sherlock stood with his head down, tears streaming down his face. His expression softened.“Oh, Sherlock come here.” He whispered, holding out his arms. Sherlock stood by himself, shivering. He pulled Sherlock into an embrace. “Sherlock, Sherlock my sweet darling. I sometimes forget that you do have feelings.” He stroked the back of Sherlock’s head. “Ssh, Sherlock, Doctor’s orders.”

  
Sherlock pulled out of his grasp. “Gottcha, John.”

  
He started to laugh. “You are such a fucking little piss ant. Do you still have that riding crop? Because I think someone needs a spanking.”

  
Sherlock came back a moment later with the riding crop in his hand. “Doctor I have been bad punish me.”

  
He hadn’t this much sex since college. I hope I can keep up. He thought. He could feel himself starting to lose control when they experimented.

  
“Sherlock, I’m starting to lose control. Maybe we should stop.” He gasped.

  
 “No, Sherlock begged, don't stop what you're doing." He couldn’t have stopped if he tried.  Sherlock lay back gasping aloud. “Oh God, John, John. Jesus, John I love you. You will be the death of me yet. You will break my heart”

  
He got his breathing under control. “Sherlock, what are you talking about? I would never break your heart.”

  
Sherlock’s eyes looked so wise and sad that he swallowed. “Whatever you say John darling, I am just repeating something Irene told me.”  
He frowned. “So, you won’t listen to me, but you will listen to a woman who claims she is gay, and then tries to seduce you. Did she succeed? I mean you wrote that sad song for her and mooned around not eating.”

  
Sherlock smiled. “Irene always said you wanted me and that you were jealous of her. John, I wrote the song for you, the thought I could never touch or hold you nearly drove me insane and no, I’ve never slept with a woman.”

  
He frowned. “What about Jeannie?”

  
“Nope, just a little foreplay and a bath or two together.” Sherlock met his gaze full on.

  
“So, you’ve always been gay, then?”

  
Sherlock smiled that sad smile that drove him nuts. “John, you are the first person I have slept with.”

  
He felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh God, Sherlock, and I was so rough with you.”

  
“My clean shaven Doctor, don’t tell me you are going to lose your composure now? I may not have actually slept with another person, however, I have watched tons of porn on the computer and I have experimented by myself.”

  
“You mean when I thought you were hard at work on your computer, you were actually watching porn?” 

  
“John, I assure you I was hard at work. Very hard, in fact one time I was jerking myself off under the table while you sat in your chair. I sometimes would sneak into your room at night just to watch you sleep. I remember there were times that I hurt I wanted you so bad.”

  
He snuggled next to Sherlock. “My poor darling Sherlock, you have suffered. Oh, and please never think I will hurt you. I would rather die first. Now let’s get some sleep. Maybe we should get a shower first.” He breathed in the smell of Sherlock. He smelt like sweat, sex, and something else a sweet yet strong arid odor. He breathed deep and licked Sherlock’s arm. “Never mind I love the way you smell right now. If I had any blood pressure left in me I would take you now. You know the night we went out and got drunk and ended up at the gay bar? I had such a wet dream about you taking me bareback that I soaked our sheets and had to tell Mary that it was about her.”

  
They lay in bed kissing and fondling each other. Eventually he fell asleep in Sherlock’s arms. ### Sherlock didn’t sleep he just watched John. He loved John so much his chest hurt. I’m going to have to let him go. He thought. “It’s going to hurt so badly, but I must let him go. Irene, was right, John has already broken my heart” He didn’t sleep all night. It was about 3am when John stirred in his arms.

“Sherlock, haven’t you been to sleep?” 

“Yes, I got some sleep,” he lied.

  
"Sherlock you look terrible, your pallor is waxen and I can see the dark circles under your eyes even from the dim light on the nightstand." He slid away from John’s grasp and went to his dresser and took out a pack of cigarettes. He put it in his mouth then slowly inhaled. His groin stirred and he didn’t smile when walked towards John; he just kept coming slowly inhaling and exhaling. When he got to the bed he jerked the sheet off and put the cigarette out in an ashtray on his nightstand. John lay back and smiled when he crawled on the bed towards him.  John then laid back and let him work. 

  
“Sherlock, God oh Sherlock, I never even dreamed something like that was possible.”

  
He looked like a smug student and he bowed. “John, I have done a lot of studying. Don’t forget I spent some time in India learning the ins and outs of the Kuma Sutra. I have learned many, many things.”

  
John pulled him down beside him. “Sherlock I am your willing pupil. Teach me everything you learned. But first let’s go get a shower.”

  
He hung back a little tracing the floor with his toe. “John, I only take baths.”

  
John laughed. “Sherlock, I swear you are such a little boy sometimes. I supposed you’ve got a rubber ducky too.”

  
He gave John a look. “John, come and join me I have something much better than a rubber ducky.”  
He lay in between John’s legs while John gently washed his back with a sponge and warm soapy bath water. His fingers reached back and  John leaned back in the bathtub and let him take over.  John clumsily moved towards him while water splashed everywhere. John grabbed the sides of the bathtub and missed slipping into the water, sputtering when water filled his nose and throat. He quickly pulled John up and out of the water. John couldn’t catch his breath and slipped out of his grasp. When he finally got John out of the bathtub, he panicked when he noticed John wasn’t breathing. He bent down to see if he could feel John’s breath on his cheek—nothing. John taught him CPR, however, it was hard to keep calm while he pushed on John’s chest. He finally tilted John’s mouth and began mouth to mouth. He began to panic again, when John sat up and vomited soapy bath water over them both.  
Sherlock took John’s face between his hands. “John, John are you alright?”

  
John coughed a few times nodding yes, then when he got his breath back remarked, "Well, you know what they say more accidents happen at home.”

  
Sherlock sat on the floor in stunned silence. For the first time he knew what it would be like if he lost John forever.  
“John, are sure you’re okay?” He asked in a hoarse voice.

John still sputtered a bit. “Sherlock’ I’m fine. Really I am.”

Without a word he took John in his arms and held him. /p>

  
“Sherlock, it’s okay. I’m okay really.” 

  
John took a deep breath and cleared his throat. " Sherlock you have the ability to look so sad at times that I have trouble coming to grips with it.  
“Come, Sherlock, let’s take a nap.” Sherlock nodded and they slept the rest of the day away.

  
The next few days were like a honeymoon. When the bombshell hit Sherlock it felt like a ton of bricks in the pit of his stomach.  
John sat at the table reading the paper, and he restlessly paced around in his robe with nothing on underneath. John smiled and grabbed at him when he walked by the table.

  
“Hey Sherlock Mrs. Hudson is coming back tomorrow. You had better get used to wearing clothes.”

  
He sighed. “Clothes are boring. I don’t think I’ll wear them again.”

  
“Yes, you do look good in just a sheet. You know I desperately tried to look under your sheet that day in the palace.”

  
“John, come and look now.” His voice became low, husky and he felt desire sweeping through him. He slipped off his robe and stood naked before John. John swallowed when his fingers made indentations in his skin. He wrestled John to the ground and pulled open his stripped robe. 

  
“Jesus, God, Sherlock, what’s the hurry?” 

  
“John, I want to try something new, however,we are going to have to coordinate our movements. Follow my lead.”

  


  
Sweat poured from John’s forehead and he grunted in assent.  He wanted to prolong the experience; however, he could tell that his body was going to betray him as he felt the pressure building up.

  
“Sherlock, I’m almost there I’m not going to be able to hold back.” 

  
He delighted in John’s ecstasy.

  
They had both barely got their breath back when he spoke. “John, when are you leaving?”

  
“Jesus, Sherlock, have you been reading my phone texts?”

  
He nodded and sighed. “John, of course how else would I know that Mary was out of town and now she is back at your flat? John, you can’t ignore her forever.”

  
Angrily John pushed himself off the floor and walked out of the room.

  
The next day he watched John pack in silence. When John grabbed the striped shirt that he wore so often and was going to pack it in a separate duffel bag, he stopped him.

  


  
“Sherlock, the shirt is dirty. What could you possible want with it?”

  
He grabbed the shirt out of John’s hands. “I need it for an experiment.”

  
John sighed. “Fine, take it.”

  
He couldn't bring himself to walk John down the stairs.

  
John took him in an embrace and patted his back. “I love you Sherlock and somehow we will work this all out.”

  
He nodded. He had dressed for the occasion, shirt perfectly ironed, long black coat, dress pants and the futile attempt he always made to control his fly away hair was obvious from the remnants of hair product in his curls. John nodded and then without another word left. He raced up the stairs so that he could watch John from the window. He hoped that John would turn around and wave, but he didn’t, so he strained his eyes to watch John until he disappeared from sight.


End file.
